Lord of the Flies chapter 13
by VforVicodin
Summary: The 'missing' thirteenth chapter of William Golding's Lord of the Flies. xD Originally this was a school project, but I thought it turned out pretty well, and wanted to post it somewhere. Please R&R! Enjoy


Creative Assignment #1 Missing final chapter

The naval officer's embarrassed expression did not wear off as they loaded the boys into the rescue cruiser. Jack led his hunters, still weakly holding on to his leadership, and his hunters followed with their heads hung low, not in the mood to talk. Jack and his hunters were let onto the boat first, being carefully arranged by the other two naval officers. One officer's face was lit with enthusiasm, as he loudly remarked how happy they must be to have survived. Jack simply let out a low growl and set himself down on an uncomfortable seat, followed by Roger and Samneric who sat down beside him, glancing worriedly back at their island. The island was almost no more; the fire danced and tread violently through the creepers, and the image of the burning palm trees was twisted and warped by the intense heat that nimbly swam through the dense array of trunks. Jack weakly averted his eyes, squinting as hot ashes and sand blinded him.

The officers tried to coax Ralph out of his hunched position on the ground. He didn't want to move, he just wanted to sit, think, and mourn. The officer he had collapsed in front of grew tired of Ralph's childish stubborness, and hauled him to his feet, holding his hand to help him balance on his shaking knees.

''Th-thanks,'' Ralph spoke softly and nodded feebly. The naval officer returned the subtle nod. He studied Ralph's scrapes and cuts, and his shirt that had been worn away to reveal Ralph's entire back and half the front of his chest. Ralph could feel every breath deep in his chest, and he felt his heart pounding to break free of his ribs. His lack of air caught him off guard, and he drew a sharp breath of oxygen to maintain consciousness. His vision was limited to the island swaying back and forth, but it couldn't really be, he thought. The corners of his eyes started to cloud over with the same shade of black that the smoke and ashes that burned his nose, and the officer's face zoomed out like looking through binoculars the wrong way. There was a growing uneasiness settling inside Ralph, racking his head with tormenting agony that threatened to rip through his skull. He felt throbbing pain, mostly in his chest, that pulsed with pain every time his weakening heart pumped hot blood through his veins.

His hearing was numbed by what he thought might be cottonballs shoved in his ears, but he faintly heard the distant but commanding voice of the naval officer repeating a question.

''What caused the death of the two casualties?'' The officer's voice was still muffled, but Ralph picked out the key words and put them in order in his aching head to find meaning.

''P-Piggy. Simon...''Ralph moaned and trailed off.

''Yes, Piggy, Simon. What happened?'' Ralph hesitated. ''Boy. Are you going to answer me?'' Ralph heard most of the officer's words, but struggled to understand, let alone find an answer.

''Dead. The beas -'' Ralph gasped for breath, then opened his mouth again. ''All of us. Beast.'' He paused, letting his messed eyes focus on the officer, but to no avail. Ralph couldn't make his words fit together coherently. He knew what he wanted to say, but couldn't express what he was thinking, not in a way they could understand. Not them.

''Simon...us. We all danced. We - ''

''Hurry up boy.'' The officer snapped.

''...But I've got the conch...'' Ralph protested, using the only familiar words he found powerful enough.

''I don't know what you're talking about, boy. There's other little boys to help, who seem much more civilized than you. Hurry up,'' the officer barked and dragged him by his wrist to the cruiser. He let go of Ralph's hand, forcing to stand up straight on his own. Just as Ralph managed to support himself on his two feet, a sweeping blow shattered his mind. Ralph's hands first flew to his head, then thrust out instinctively toward the ground as he hit the sand with a sickening thud.

''He's passed out,'' the officer nonchalantly answered the unspoken shock of the other boys, all except for Jack, who maintained his deep concentration on the barren wasteland that had become of the island.

''Keep moving,'' the young, cheery officer ordered.


End file.
